


Flowers and Chocolate

by explodingnebulae



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explodingnebulae/pseuds/explodingnebulae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the off-duty crew of the Enterprise finds itself caught up in the gaiety of the Valentine's Day celebrations, Kirk and Spock find themselves at odds with their emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers and Chocolate

Of all the holidays that Spock had known the human race to celebrate, Valentine’s Day proved to be the most illogical of them all. The concept of waiting until a certain day of the year to profess one’s love to another and provide gifts colored with what were supposed to be the shades of passion was utterly ridiculous in the Vulcan’s mind. What deterred him from the festivities further was the emotion it was centered around-- _Love_.

He had studied the emotion to some depth. He had probed it, prodded it, tried to understand it and then deemed it a simple notion with some complex—and most irrational—constituents. Spock understood what love was, but decided against ever bothering with it. It was an emotion. And quite a powerful one at that. It was a shameful feeling that Spock had caught himself experiencing every now and again. Upon having felt such a damning emotion, he would submerge himself in his work and ignore the disgraceful sensation until it receded. 

Now, Spock was simply trying to avoid the uproarious clamor that had seized control of nearly every man and woman aboard _Enterprise_. He had holed himself up in his quarters in the hopes that he would be able to focus so deeply on his work that he would momentarily push aside the knowledge that he served on a ship full of completely illogical humanoids.

There was another thought that threatened to dismantle his meticulously woven mask of apathy. It was another simple emotion that he could only blame his human half for feeling, for it was of a primordial category. It caused his heart to constrict and his stomach to churn with animosity and need. And what profane images came into focus upon the mere mention of such a state! He would not--could not-- permit the obtrusive distraction into his consciousness. Spock sighed to expel the thought from his mind then slowly inhaled as his eyes closed. Everything that had been wearing upon his asylum simply vanished, quelled by the equanimity logic provided. 

His complete focus returned to his console and the PADD beside it on the table. He had been filing a report on a variety of unique aquatic life that filled the oceans of a planet in a star system located in one of the farthest outset quadrants of the Milky Way galaxy. They were of the more fascinating marine life that Spock had come across in his three years and two months on _Enterprise_. The planet should have been uninhabitable given the distance between the world and its cooler than usual sun, but that had not been the case. Each life form that had been studied generated its own heat and provided for the planet so that vegetation could spawn. Every life worked together in complete symbiosis to ensure survival in the extreme frigidity of its world. 

Spock completed the report much quicker than he had initially anticipated and felt flickers of both satisfaction and annoyance pass through his person. With the knowledge that he was finished with all immediate work, the Vulcan thought for a moment on what he could do to occupy his time. Thousands of possibilities presented themselves to Spock in that short instant and one of them was sickeningly human.

He thought, for a fraction of a second, about joining in on the festivities that were happening throughout the ship. Spock’s mind homed in on one particular person whose company he hardly ever minded. The illusions that accompanied the aforementioned person were not what Spock had predicted them to be. 

_James Tiberius Kirk flashes in his mind, which is not unusual, with his body pressing comfortably to a woman’s. Her back is molded against his torso, his cheek resting gently against the side of her head, a small smile playing about both sets of lips. Jim’s eyelids lazily drooping shut as his hands gently curl around her slender form. Their bodies are delicately swaying to the sound of music that seems so distant and surreal. Everyone and everything just seems to fade away to both them and to Spock, who saw nothing but them. All of this was highly unusual._

At the thought of Jim’s hands and body occupying the space of another, the irrepressibly sick feeling returned and clenched Spock’s heart and stomach with such vehemence that he had to physically swallow the sensation to dissolve it. Why had he felt so disgusted by the thought of his captain dancing with another human? A woman at that! Spock could hardly recall a time when Kirk _wasn’t_ falling for a woman. Why was _this_ thought troubling him so much? Before an answer presented itself, Spock returned to his imaginings.

_She turns around with an easy grace in his hold. His fingertips are trailing gently around her waist as she moves. Her blue doe eyes, innocuous and adventurous, are staring into the intrepid amber worlds that Spock has become so accustomed to surreptitiously exploring. She’s searching them and noticing the way the light exposes forests of passionate flame and abiding earth. She’s watching as his heartwarming smile grows in his eyes as they shine with the authenticity of his person. The woman subtly breathes in Jim’s redolence. It is contradicting in its celestial terra firma as it emanates from his softly flush skin. Her mind is shutting down as she looks to his lips. His warmth and magnetism are enticing her body to respond, but she isn’t surrendering. Large cerulean orbs are traveling over the supple flesh and memorizing each pliable indent._

_She’s watching with hazed vision as his bottom lip separates from the top then closes. There are words resting on Jim’s tongue, Spock can tell, but he abandons them. His wide grin simmers down to a benign twitch at the very edges of his mouth…but it’s still enough to melt her resolve. His hands, worn and heavy but ever so gentle, are caressing her spine as he moves them along her body. He places a finger under her chin and tenderly directs her head up so close to his that she feels his lungs turn thief as they whisk away her breath. She can feel his other hand at the small of her back and he holds her with firm benevolence. He’s moving in, millimeter by millimeter. She breathes him in at the last second, eyes fluttering shut, and then—_

Spock gave an audible gasp as he escaped from his mind palace. He felt an unwarranted amount of disbelief flood through his veins and pour into his lungs. His stomach churned and his heart pounded furiously against his side. Spock could not fathom the depths of his abhorrence toward his thoughts. This unprecedented emotion had cleverly tiptoed around him then crashed in upon him in one great wave of distasteful sensation. The word washed over him then. The emotion that seized control of his mind was one that he had felt but never on this grand of a scale. 

_Jealousy_. 

Spock felt it burn through his jade-hued flesh and dictate the ferocity of his heartbeat. Envy lapped greedily at his heart and tainted the emerald blood that coursed through his veins. He was aware of the fact that he couldn’t let this happen. He was a Vulcan. Spock had signed onto _Enterprise_ to prove that he was capable of handling himself as a proper member of his home species while constantly being surrounded by half of who he truly was. He was in complete and total control.

He repeated the words in his mind over and over to subdue his laborious breathing. Spock focused on his pulse next and decreased it to something of a more acceptable rate. He knew that something had shifted in him, as if there had been a spill and he was using a small rag to clean up the mess.

Spock moved to his bed as though his feet were suddenly comprised of lead. He sat on the familiar mattress and felt the material mold to his form. His mind, now calm and composed, shifted back to the topic that had caused his clandestine emotional scene.

Spock had been--and still was--jealous, that much was established. He knitted his brow together for a second, as though he were making a decision, then slowly closed his eyes. The Vulcan inhaled and exhaled at lengthening intervals until he was hardly breathing. And then there was darkness.

All around him was nothing but the sound of his own heart, and even that was dampened. Spock had a singular emotion to evaluate and felt he had to recall every instance he experienced it and any sensation that coincided with it. As logic had dictated, Spock entered the first door of his mind palace. He started with his childhood and found it fraught with such feelings. Spock had felt ashamed of who he was. He hated himself for being a half-blooded excuse for a Vulcan. He was jealous of the other children and yearned to be fully Vulcan. It had been his driving force throughout a large portion of his youth. 

Time and time again, Spock had felt jealousy as a mere footnote on a much stronger emotion. Instance after instance he watched a younger version of himself stare longingly at his peers then inwardly chastise himself for allowing emotion to pass through his smallish body. He was beginning to note that this approach was far too tedious and time consuming. His answers were not centered around his adolescence, but rather in the recent past. His time aboard _Enterprise_ had significantly increased his emotional responses, much to his displeasure.

Spock roamed the banal corridors and recalled the moments of small agitation and the whispers of impatience. Nothing in these places provided the answer he sought. Spock was stalling, but something within him cautioned his procession. The Vulcan could feel himself drawing nearer to where he would find his answers. Every bit of information Spock had accumulated began to assemble before him.

He knew where he had to look and swallowed the anxiety that threatened to break his focus.

——————

Valentine’s Day was something that James Kirk had always appreciated. It was a time when nearly all of humanity dropped what it was doing and focused on the simple feeling known as love. He had grown up with the importance of love impressed upon him and carried the sentiment with him since he left home for the Academy years ago. This holiday was one to spend with loved ones. It was a day to warm the hearts of those who needed it most.

Jim felt that, for some reason, his place was not at the party he had just left. There had been one man missing from the festivities, undoubtedly on his own accord, that Kirk thought should have been present. However, Spock had eluded the party by remaining in his quarters for the fourth year in a row. Jim’s attachment to his first officer was what had drawn him away from the party and into the barren hallways of _Enterprise_. With Spock…that’s where he felt he should be.

Kirk moved swiftly down the hall and into the nearest turbolift. After commanding the elevator to the proper location, Jim took the time to ponder what Spock could possibly doing alone on Valentine’s Day. He knew Vulcans held no significance to the holiday, as they viewed it illogical and an overall nuisance. Whatever Spock was doing, there was a high probability that Jim could coax him away from it for a game or two of chess. But the three dimensional board game seemed like a dishearteningly petty distraction from why Kirk actually wanted to visit his first officer. He knew he wanted to keep Spock company but beyond that, Jim had no real reason for visiting his second in command. He simply wanted to be with Spock on Valentine’s Day. 

He and the Vulcan had grown close over the past three years and as they began the fourth year of their journey, Kirk couldn’t help but feel that his first officer had become imperative to his ability to command. Jim did not doubt himself when he was in the center chair. However, he did not feel completely himself without having the Vulcan nearby. He felt more aware and at ease when Spock was around, both on and off duty. 

The turbolift came to a halt and the doors hissed open to reveal another empty hall. Everyone was somewhere else enjoying themselves while Spock sat in personal confinement. It wasn’t that Jim pitied the Vulcan. Pity was far from what he felt concerning his second in command.

Jim sauntered through the familiar corridor toward Spock’s quarters with a leisured stride. His mind slowly shut down to what could happen as he closed in on the Vulcan’s room. Kirk relaxed completely as he approached the door. Part of him was surprised to find that it wasn’t locked. He still knocked on the door frame out of respect.

"Come," invited Spock’s voice. There were undertones of curiosity and surprise in his science officer’s welcome.

Kirk walked into the Vulcan’s room and expected to see him busy at work on his computer or playing his lute, for Jim had heard him play it before in his spare time. But Spock wasn’t anywhere near his desk. Instead, Kirk found the Vulcan sitting on his bed, eyes opening slowly as he retreated from a trance. Jim hadn’t thought that he would have disrupted the Vulcan’s meditation.

"No need to get up, Spock," he said as he propped himself against the archway that lead into Spock’s deep crimson sleeping quarters. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, Captain," Spock replied coolly. “I was finishing my meditations. Your arrival is timely."

There was something in Spock’s dark eyes that suggested otherwise, but Jim ignored it. Spock wasn’t one to lie and Kirk could accept his word on just about anything. 

"Well, Mr. Spock, that’s great news. As you know today _is_ a holiday, regardless of your personal opinion of it, and I intend on ensuring that all of my crew joins in on the festivities," he explained with a warm smile. Kirk saw a momentary flicker of panic wash over Spock’s stony features and chuckled. “I’m not going to order you to dance, Spock. I was just going to ask if you wanted to play chess."

Spock gave a small breath of relief as he stood. There was an unwarranted grace in his movements that Jim had become attracted to over the years. His first officer was undeniably handsome and Kirk wouldn’t lie and say that he never imagined how it would feel to have Spock’s graceful, lean body pressed against him. But to think of that now was wildly inappropriate and Jim tried his best to ignore the constricting feeling in his groin. 

The Vulcan raised a brow as he approached Kirk. “I had assumed that you would be too preoccupied for personal visitations, Captain." There was a sincerity in his tone that sent a dull ache through Jim’s body. He had been miserable at the party without Spock. Kirk had enjoyed watching the members of his crew enjoy themselves and had even laughed when he saw Scotty and Chekov get into a drinking contest. But after a time, Jim became estranged. He felt on this day his place was with the one person he considered closest to him. The one who knew the most about him and who he shared the most intimate of knowledge. 

Jim laughed Spock’s comment off as though the entire suggestion was absurd. He had learned to mask his concerns and affection for Spock with humor. Although there was always a strong bond between a captain and his bridge crew, namely his second in command, Jim felt that Spock was different. Kirk knew his relationship with Spock went beyond conventional standards. He did not question their relationship and he tried his damnedest not to explore it. Time and again he had to remind himself that his science officer was Vulcan and no such fraternization could occur between the two on that principle alone.

Spock was saying something then that Jim had missed the beginning of. He shook his thoughts from his mind and caught the last of what was being said. "…but I will join you." 

Kirk dug around for the rest of what the Vulcan had said and searched Spock’s seemingly cold eyes and found what he was looking for. He pieced the rest of the statement together and bit at the inside of his lip. Spock seemed surprised by the invitation, stated that he was curious as to Jim’s presence, and indifferently accepted the invitation. There was something troubling Spock and Kirk was going to find out what it was.

"I presume that all of the recreational areas are filled with occupants," Spock deadpanned as he walked by Jim. He was being wary of the distance between himself and the captain. Just moments ago Spock was faced with the reality that had been flaunting its existence around him for years. His dedication to James Kirk went far beyond the call of duty and professional restrictions, but he wouldn’t permit Jim the insight. No matter what he felt for the captain, Kirk couldn’t know. This was his burden to bear.

Kirk’s eyes involuntarily took Spock’s form whole as the Vulcan passed him. From the midnight earthy colored hairs on his head to his regulation boots, Jim was drawn to his science officer. He found the general idea of Spock to be alluring. His deep, rustic voice trembled in Kirk’s dreams. The illusion of his pale skin hot against Jim’s tongue entreated itself upon the captain’s subconscious on more than one occasion. Kirk had tried to imagine the way Spock’s form would mold into his own as the Vulcan arched into him in a fit of primal passion. And those thoughts were not forgotten now. 

Blood flowed to Kirk’s abdomen and squeezed him. He forced the thought from his mind with a deep breath and tried to ignore the twitching sensation in his groin. Kirk waited until he was certain the physical effects of his arousal had subsided before he even considered facing his science officer. He could feel Spock’s eyes trained on him and could only guess what the Vulcan was thinking. 

"Is something wrong, Captain?" Spock asked as Jim turned around. The Vulcan’s brows were knitted in something that bordered concern and suspicion. 

"No, I’m alright, Spock," he replied absentmindedly. Kirk forced a lackluster smile, the shine missing from his eyes. The captain could see that Spock knew of his feigned attempt at composure and was grateful when his companion didn’t pursue the subject.

Jim’s grin slowly developed into the real thing as he watched Spock move over to his Tri-D chess set and noticed the Vulcan’s desk. Something crossed his mind that caused him to give a huff of laughter. 

The Vulcan raised a quizzical brow as he turned to the captain with the multi-level board in-hand. Kirk had a way of confusing Spock with his illogical outbursts of emotion. This was only one of several the Vulcan had noted in the past twenty-four hours.

"Where do you suggest we play, Mr. Spock?" Jim inquired with an amused grin. There was only one chair at Spock’s desk.

"Captain, I have already accounted for the inadequate seating arrangement of my quarters. I was going to allow you the chair. As you are my commanding officer, I found it appr—"

"As much as I admire your chivalry, Spock, I’m going to have to decline your solution," chuckled Kirk as he lowered himself to the floor. “We’re equals right now. And I think we can both manage to play on an equal level. If you would do me the honor."

Spock looked down at Kirk and tried to snuff the warmth that threatened to appear upon his cheeks. The captain was beaming at him now. The glint that added fire to Jim’s gaze appeared and Spock fought the urge to return his captain’s contagious smile. He felt his own eyes brighten as he raised an amused brow. Finding that he was acting very much unlike a proper Vulcan, Spock washed the emotion from his features and replied in a banal tone, “As you wish, Captain."

Jim frowned slightly as the shine in Spock’s dark eyes vanished. As his first officer set up the board Kirk wondered if Amanda, Spock’s mother, had ever mentioned this holiday to her son when he was a child. Jim had admired the way she, a human on an emotionless planet, handled herself. She was a compassionate woman and Kirk noticed that, in all her years on Vulcan, Amanda had retained her emotions. At this, Jim’s mind teetered toward another memory. There had been a time when Spock’s emotions had boiled over after a disease was brought aboard the ship.

He had claimed that he was never able to tell his mother that he loved her. She had no doubt said it to him throughout his life and Jim couldn’t begin to imagine how that wore on the Vulcan’s psyche. How hard was it for Spock to keep himself emotionless? How many times a day was he reminded that he was a half-blood? 

The term _half-blood_ didn’t seem to fit Spock in the slightest. There was too much of a negative connotation associated with half-blood. It made him sound like he was a pitiful excuse for a Vulcan and a machine of a man. Kirk had viewed Spock as more of a hybrid. He provided the very best that both species had to offer. He had the logical mindset of a Vulcan. At times, it was mistaken for ruthlessness and Spock _could_ be severe and glacial, but that did not mean he was without his human half. He was fiercely loyal and very protective of the ship’s crew, especially Jim. The combination of these attributes—and the many others Spock possessed—made him the best second officer in the fleet and an asset to Kirk’s well-being.

The Vulcan’s attention flitted between the board and Jim as he set up their game. He could tell that the captain was lost in thought and tried not to entertain the idea of what could be occupying Jim’s mind. For as badly as he wanted to peer into his captain’s subconscious, Spock dared not fathom the erratic thought processes of the human brain.

After the game was prepared Spock watched as Jim’s lips wrapped around a thought. He couldn’t decipher what was being said and decided that he didn’t want to. His cocoa eyes traced over the supple flesh of Kirk’s mouth and an outlandish need surged through his person. Spock averted his gaze to anything that wasn’t the captain and waited until he had himself in check before returning his attention to his commanding officer. “Jim."

Kirk withdrew himself from his thoughts and found the board complete. He looked beyond the pillars to Spock, who was staring expectantly at him, and smiled warmly. “I guess that means I’m first?" he offered and twitched his fingers about his pieces. He made the decision and moved one of his knights first.

"Quite correct, Captain," returned Spock as he moved one of his pawns. 

The game was executed in silence and remained that way through much of the event. Move after move, their pieces danced about each other in a ruthless tango. Jim finally felt himself focusing on the game while Spock found himself slightly distracted by the way Kirk’s fingers dictated his plastic army. The crooked smirks Jim delivered upon making a favorable decision did nothing to aid the Vulcan’s focus, either.

As the game continued, Jim’s focus began to waver as well. It was Valentine’s Day and he was sitting on the floor playing chess with his first officer instead of with the rest of his crew. The thought of it seemed preposterous, but in reality Kirk was truly enjoying himself. He had long since forgotten the incomplete feeling that he had suffered while in the presence of some of his closest friends. Spock sitting across from him on that same floor was enough to make Jim forget the emptiness, or perhaps the Vulcan even filled the void. Kirk’s lips twitched into a smirk as he took one of the Vulcan’s rooks then looked to his opponent. 

"If I’m correct in my thinking," Kirk began in a proud voice, “I’ll have this game your next move."

The Vulcan raised a quizzical brow. He had planned on taking the game in two moves. Whatever Kirk was up to, his science officer was blind to it. Spock claimed Jim’s last bishop and the ghost of an amused grin played at his lips. “Check," he proclaimed with some satisfaction. His pleasure grew as the captain’s smile faded and his bottom lip ran almost impatiently over his top. Spock felt a twinge of want move through his person as he watched Jim’s lips. As Kirk straightened up, the Vulcan purged the desire but not his amusement.

Jim kept his face straight and seemingly innocuous as he took Spock’s queen and the game. He watched as the Vulcan’s elated expression dissolved with great pleasure. Disbelief took its place in those dark eyes and Kirk knew he had him. “Checkmate," he declared triumphantly. The captain beamed with self-satisfaction as Spock reconstructed his apathetic mask. “What’s the matter? Irritated, Spock?"

"No, Captain," Spock responded in the most sincere of tones. Jim could see that the Vulcan had felt something that bordered annoyance, but decided not to pursue it. Kirk was used to watching Spock’s astonished face dissipate into nothingness shortly after being defeated. He took it as a sign that he was doing something right with Spock. It was one of the only ways to evoke an emotional response from him, and often a raised brow.

Kirk allowed himself a moment to explore Spock’s dark orbs. There was a smile in them along with something else. The foreign sight made Jim knit his brow and involuntarily draw just a hair nearer to the Vulcan. But it receded quickly and in its place arose a friendly challenge. Kirk gave a crooked smirk and lazily blinked as he straightened up. Round two was about to start.

Jim reached out for the rest of his pieces, which rested beside Spock’s knee, as the Vulcan reached for his, which sat respectively by Kirk. The science officer realized a millisecond too late that he and Jim were too close to avoid contact.

Spock wasn’t able to stifle his gasp as his pale, lithe fingertips brushed against the very tips of Jim’s tan and hardened knuckles. Both men froze in place as the transference of sensation took place.

Jim felt something similar to electricity pulse within the nerves of his fingers and looked up at Spock. He had not anticipated the Vulcan’s reaction to the even more unexpected touch. His gaze traveled over pallor features in an attempt to gauge the Spock’s unusual response.

Spock’s face was a portrait painted with the colors of both guilt and pleasure. His cheeks took on a jade hue as his mouth indecisively wavered between open and shut. Jim trailed his sights up to the Vulcan’s deep chocolate eyes with relentless curiosity. It was here that James Kirk found what he had passed off as his imagination playing upon his asylum in the past. Spock’s pupils had widened and the earthy tones of his eyes glistened. This time, Jim knew exactly what was in those seemingly infinite oceans of logic and reason. 

Jim watched as the feeling within Spock flitted away and thought hastily of a way to keep it in place. He looked down to their hands to see that the Vulcan was hesitantly pulling away. As Kirk followed it, Spock’s voice broke through his consciousness. “Jim, I must ask that you do not pursue this any further," Spock pleaded in a quiet tone. 

Kirk heard the undertones of desperation in Spock’s breath and knew the request was genuine. He drew back his hand, but he wasn’t going to let what just happened escape either of them. Jim grabbed the Tri-D chessboard and set it aside so nothing was between them. Kirk watched as Spock looked away with his fingers interwoven at the center of his crossed legs.

"Spock," he began slowly. Jim kept his voice secretive and hushed. In that single syllable rested a plethora of inquiries and demands. He saw Spock's jaw tighten, but did not get a further response. Kirk waited in a growing silence for an explanation and started to feel almost guilty for having touched the Vulcan. “Spock," he urged and moved closer to his first officer.

The Vulcan returned his focus to the captain and held Jim whole in his infinitely dark eyes. He felt as if he had committed a crime. And even worse, Spock knew he had enjoyed it and craved more. The instantaneous euphoria he experienced from simply brushing against his captain’s hand had all but torn his resolve to shreds. Spock tightened his interlaced fingers as he thought of the sensation that had ripped through his body. How marvelous the contact had been. Even in their innocence, James Kirk’s fingers had provoked from Spock a reaction that was less than Vulcan but more than human. And it had been enough to cause unspeakable desires to flourish within him. 

Jim was growing irritated by the silence. He knew very well what had been present in the Vulcan’s eyes, but he needed to hear Spock say it, act upon it, do anything that provided the captain with evidence to support his conjecture. What little of an answer Spock had provided, his simple shift of attention, was not enough. He leaned in closer and looked down at Spock’s hands. Kirk watched as the Vulcan’s grip tightened around itself until pale hands turned a ghastly ashen. A memory flashed in his mind that gave him a reason to pause. His mind traveled back, once again, to Spock’s mother. 

Amanda and Sarek had touched the very tips of their fingers in what Jim had perceived as a Vulcan sign of affection. Sarek was completely Vulcan and it still seemed that he concerned himself enough to make contact with his wife in that way. The simplicity of touch was everything but simple to Vulcans. This caused Jim to backtrack through all the times he had unknowingly touched Spock and how the Vulcan would go rigid under his touch. Every time they had come in contact with each other, Spock had seemed edgy or hesitant, but Kirk would have never surmised that this was the reason. 

Kirk returned his attention to Spock and sat back on his calves. “All these years…I’ve…touched you, Spock, and you never said anything. Why?" It was far from a request.

"I found no reason to alarm you, Captain," began the Vulcan in a strained voice. Spock’s head dropped and his shoulders slouched. Jim had seen Spock angry, driven by primal lust, intoxicated by alien flora, but never had he witnessed what was before him now. Spock was making no attempt to shield or suppress his emotions. He appeared…vulnerable. “Vulcans, as a people, are very private. As you know we are telepathic through touch. Our skin, especially that of our hands, is hypersensitive." He looked back at the captain with eyes that overflowed with unknowns. “It was not my intention to make this known to you."

Kirk knew that Spock’s last phrase was speaking for more than what he had explained. It had not been the Vulcan’s intention for Jim to figure out about Vulcan traditions and taboo just as much as it wasn’t his intention for his captain to figure out that what he saw in that usually banal gaze was reality. Spock was attracted to—if not in love with—his captain.

"You’re telling me that something as simple as this," Jim mused as he reached out and ran his fingers along Spock’s clasped hands, “is considered intimate?" It was only a partial inquiry. Kirk knew what he was doing now, or at least had some understanding of the principle concept of what he was doing. Years of wondering what his first officer would look like unhinged were slowly merging with reality as he watched Spock’s eyes squeeze shut and jaw clench.

The science officer nodded sharply as Jim moved closer to him. “Jim, please," he implored. Whether he was begging his captain to stop or proceed, Spock simply didn’t have an answer. He unlaced his fingers and opened his eyes. The captain’s gaze was fixed on him and Spock formed an answer to his own inquiry.

Kirk’s hand had receded from the Vulcan’s heated flesh but he remained close to Spock. He watched as a svelte hand was hesitantly raised into the air, palm facing Jim. Kirk mirrored the action and gently pressed his fingertips to Spock’s. The captain searched the Vulcan’s optics for a reaction and immediately received it. Primitive need lapped the shores those endlessly dark pools and rippled with unbeknownst reverence. Between that and the low, unearthly moan that escaped Spock’s lips, Jim couldn't help the rush of blood that flowed straight to his groin. 

Jim felt tiny sparks along the pads of his fingers as he trailed the tips of his digits up and down the Vulcan’s palm. His eyes never left Spock’s wavering gaze. He watched as his science officer's eyelids fluttered shut only to partially open as Jim traced haphazard patterns into the center of Spock's hand. 

Kirk felt his entire body flood with memories he never knew he withheld. Every memorable time he had displayed his affection for Spock, every warm glance, every amorous urge... Countless moments had brought him here. This was why he was here. It wasn’t to play chess. It was to take a chance that he didn’t even know was an option. It could have cost him the greatest science officer in the entire Fleet and his closest friend. It still could. The Vulcan could return to his rational self at any moment. Jim couldn’t afford to lose Spock. With this simple mindset, Kirk knew he had to take another chance. 

"Spock," he muttered and looked down to the Vulcan’s legs. They were folded neatly over one another and blocked Kirk from proceeding. Spock wordlessly complied and shifted so that his legs were stretched in front of him with the captain between them. Jim shuffled closer and arranged himself so his lips were hovering slightly above Spock’s face. His eyes trailed down the Vulcan’s regal features and caught sight of the beginnings of an erection in Spock’s trousers. 

Spock felt everything happening rapidly around him. His head was spinning and his body was overflowing with emotions that trumped the carnal drives of the pon farr. Lust heated his cheeks and pumped emerald blood to his groin as passion lapped at his heart and made him feel as if his body had the consistency of gel. This was the reality he had silently yearned for. This was the reality he had rejected, denied only hours ago. James Tiberius Kirk could never be his, yet here he was. Spock rested his head against Jim’s lips as his captain laced their fingers together. 

He breathed in the scent he could recall at a moment’s notice, but it was different somehow. The captain’s aura overtook his senses and seized control of his lungs. Jim Kirk became the air around him. Spock felt as if Jim’s essence was only source of oxygen his blood needed to keep him alive. All of this had happened so suddenly and with such futile contention from Spock against this feeling, but neither Vulcan nor human minded. They were exactly where they wanted to be.

The Vulcan heard his captain utter something against the skin of his forehead and made an attempt to register the words in his mind. “How long?"

How long? How long had he wanted the captain to be his? How long had he felt that embarrassingly primal, covetous need for James Kirk? Spock thought briefly upon his earlier meditations. 

"Since the beginning," he breathed as he removed his forehead from Jim’s lips. He looked up at his captain to relay that what he was saying was truth. 

Spock had not known in the beginning of the bond he had shared with Jim Kirk, just as he still did not know the strength of its tethers. He knew that Kirk was someone he would always be drawn to and would always follow. He had devoted himself entirely to his captain, had offered and reciprocated friendship. None of the three terms that immediately came to mind did James Kirk justice. The Vulcan searched every language he knew for a word to describe his captain as Jim placed his finger under Spock’s chin and lifted gently. It was when he searched those honey worlds which possessed entire forests of valiant flames and benevolent soils did the appellation dawn on him. 

_T’hy’la_!

Jim pressed his lips to Spock’s to find that the other's hands were not the only parts of his body to have such an exotic touch. He had imagined for years what kissing Spock would be like. He had imagined how empyrean the Vulcan’s lips would taste, but this put all his presumptions to shame. Spock’s kiss was the embodiment of passion. It was as if his lips were a scorched nirvana and Jim’s very soul could not help but demand more.

Kirk’s lips parted against the molten flesh and he slowly ran his tongue along Spock’s agape mouth. Inexplicable flares of heat and electricity surged through his body as the Vulcan’s slender digits lapped at the skin of his hand. Jim mimicked the action and received libidinous feedback as the Vulcan groaned into the kiss.

The science officer closed his lips around Jim’s tongue and gave it a soft suck before releasing it. He felt Jim’s body sway in the air around him and could make the logical conclusion that the captain had bucked his hips forward. Spock's mouth opened in a silent cry as Kirk's fingertips trailed delicately along his knuckles. Spock breathed in whatever air escaped Jim’s lungs and lapped the tip of his tongue against his captain’s upper lip as they kissed.

Kirk could taste Spock on his tongue as the Vulcan brought his molten probe into Jim’s mouth. He tested the alien soil of Spock’s home planet as his science officer’s tongue moved within him. The captain could feel the celestial wonderment dancing upon his lips as Spock slowly withdrew his tongue. The Vulcan had held such fervent curiosity and ambition in his kiss that Jim could only indulge Spock as their lips hungrily united and their interwoven hands were clasped together so tightly that Jim could feel the effects of his own kiss playing back through the pads of Spock's digits. 

Spock broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Jim’s. For once he was the one in need of breath. And he took it as he greedily inhaled Jim’s ethereal aura. He wanted to join with Kirk. He wanted to meld with Jim’s very soul and interlace their DNA. But he wouldn’t. Not now. There were still too many variables. Too many unsolved segments of the equation were present for him to come to a sound conclusion. For now he had this. He had Jim’s breath skirting along his skin and he had his kiss. He had James Kirk.

Jim chuckled softly as he breathed in Spock. “So much for flowers and chocolate," he muttered before reuniting their lips. His Vulcan returned the kiss with equal fervor, his fiery lips burning the details of his passion against Jim’s mouth and into his heart. 

They would join in time. The very essence of their beings would synthesize into a singular entity and their souls would become indistinguishable. Two flames, burning with identical and equal ferocity, would merge into a single, imperishable fire that would mark their very beings with each other’s scars. But now, they had a kiss. They had a reality, an opportunity, and they took it. Lips collided as bodies merged and minds were lost.

And Spock was not disgusted by the flames that consumed his being as he felt Jim’s presence around him. He welcomed them as he welcomed his captain’s lips upon his skin. And those delicate nips and tender kisses that lined his body were greeted with low moans and shaky breaths. All the logic of the universe could not explain this simple feeling and Spock knew that he knew nothing and everything of the emotion called love.

**Author's Note:**

> *sighs* Thank you so much for your time and I really hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.  
> I would like to thank my dearest friend Akai for co-revising this fic with me. As we are human, we are susceptible to human error and may very well have missed some blunders. (Also, I'm terribly sorry for the weak ending ;-;)  
> 


End file.
